


Like a Blushing Rose

by ryry_peaches



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Early Relationship, Embarrassment, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryry_peaches/pseuds/ryry_peaches
Summary: David and Patrick navigate little embarrassing moments over the course of their relationship.-"Hey," David says, pulling at Patrick's fingers.  "Don't touch your face, it's bad for your skin."  He succeeds in prying Patrick's hands away from his face, which is bright red.  David can't help but touch it; the warmth radiating off Patrick's skin is intoxicating, which is a thought he's interested in chasing down the line — but not right now.  "It's fine, Patrick."
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735951
Comments: 9
Kudos: 172





	Like a Blushing Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by a lovely Tumblr anon who asked for sweet embarrassing moments between the boys. Title from When Love is New by Dolly Parton because I couldn't resist.

"What was that?"

David freezes. Maybe if he stays really still, Patrick won't be able to see him.

"David," Patrick says with a huff of laughter. "I can still see you, even when you stand really still."

Okay, fuck that plan, then. David relaxes. "What was what?" He says as breezily as he can manage. (Nevermind that he's not breezy at his best.)

"David," Patrick says again, in his patented teasing voice. "Did you belch?"

"Okay, firstly, that's a gross word and I hate it," David clarifies, because Patrick's vocabulary, as it turns out, is atrocious. "And secondly, no, I did not. That's a disgusting thing to do in public."

"Is it technically public if it's just us two in here?" Patrick cocks his head, a show of innocence that's so full of shit, and gestures at the admittedly empty shopping floor. 

David bristles to hide the little shiver that _just us two_ gives him. "Please don't remind me that we're quiet," he snaps instead.

Patrick just laughs at him. "Told you the cafe's Super Burrito was a bad idea." 

"You know what, this isn't a discussion we're having," David announces. He hates how out of control he feels. He hates that Patrick is having fun humiliating him. He hates that he actually doesn't hate either of those things, that Patrick's savant-level ability to press all of his buttons with complete accuracy gives him a little thrill that he's chosen not to poke at thus far.

The thing about the beginning of a relationship is that there's no way of knowing how the other person will react as you slowly become a little more accessible to them, a little more human. In the scant few weeks they've been dating, David has tried to stay at his filet mignon for Patrick, and now he's unwittingly exposed himself at his Super Burrito.

"David, it's okay," Patrick says gently. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Oh my God." David tosses his hands up. "How are we still fucking talking about this?" 

He cringes, expecting Patrick to be cowed by this, but he should know better at this point. Patrick is smiling at him, endeared by David's harshness rather than repelled by it. "Would it make you feel better if I burped, too?"

David's jaw actually drops in horror. "No, it would not. Literally at all."

"Okay," Patrick says, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I just want you to know that there is really nothing to be embarrassed about. You can't always control your body, right?"

David really doesn't know how to handle Patrick's blend of teasing and gentle sincerity right now. Humiliation wars in him with his desire to let it go, because for some reason Patrick hasn't turned away at him, even after doing something as disgusting as — he has to swallow a gag at the thought — belching in public. Finally, he sighs and looks at Patrick. "Can we just drop it? And never bring it up again?"

Patrick's eyes soften, though the teasing smile doesn't slip completely off his face. "Consider it forgotten," he says. And when he scrubs a firm hand over David's back, David lets himself think, _maybe._ Maybe this, the first guy to still want to touch him after seeing his body betray him, maybe this one will work out.

-

There's a wet spot on David's shirt. 

It takes him a moment or two to orient himself — they're at Ray's, and Ray is out with a client. It's their day off from work, and they're on the couch, and they must have fallen asleep watching TV. Patrick's head is resting on David's chest, and his mouth is slightly open, and… 

Drool. Patrick has drooled on his shirt.

David is first horrified by the drool on his shirt, because ew, and then he's horrified because in equal measure to his horror, he finds that he's finding this whole thing endearing. And a bit relieving — finally, a tangible physical flaw, a little imperfection to prove that Patrick is a real person, who apparently drools in his sleep.

It's endearing enough that instead of leaping up and spot cleaning his shirt immediately, David finds himself petting a hand over Patrick's hair. Patrick snuffles, and David does it again, encouraged. When he runs his fingers between the shorn strands — not tugging, just seeing how it feels — Patrick sniffs and shifts and blinks awake, and David tugs his hand back guiltily.

"Mm," Patrick says, voice thick, not lifting his head from David's chest, "How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour and a half," David says, petting his hair again.

Patrick groans, wipes his mouth and lifts his head, and then he pauses. "You got something…" He points to the wet spot on David's shirt, and then stiffens. "Oh my God," he says, and covers his face. "David —"

"It's okay," David assures him, because for some reason it really is. Because it's Patrick, and David has learned over the past several months that he'll make a _lot_ more allowances for Patrick than he ever could have thought.

"It only happens when I sleep during the day," Patrick says from between his fingers. "I'm so sorry, I'll pay to have your shirt cleaned —"

"Hey," David says, pulling at Patrick's fingers. "Don't touch your face, it's bad for your skin." He succeeds in prying Patrick's hands away from his face, which is bright red. David can't help but touch it; the warmth radiating off Patrick's skin is intoxicating, which is a thought he's interested in chasing down the line — but not right now. "It's fine, Patrick."

Patrick chances a look up at him with the biggest set of puppy-dog eyes David has ever seen on an adult. "But your shirt! You're not mad?"

"I'm as surprised as you are," David tells him with absolute sincerity. "But I guess…it's kind of…," he takes a long pause, looking for a word. "Endearing." He cringes, waiting for Patrick to react.

Patrick reacts by blushing harder, which David thinks is very fun and adorable of him, the bloodrush painting his ears, his neck. "Okay," he says. "I'm…really embarrassed," he admits.

"Mm, shocking," David can't help but tease. "It's okay, Patrick. I promise."

"Oh, you promise?" Patrick shuffles up, eyes dropping to David's mouth.

"Mhmm," David says, smiling into the kiss Patrick offers him. He pulls back and leans his forehead against Patrick's, and he can't help but think that maybe, at this exact second, everything really is okay.

-

They're driving home from a conference when he sees it.

David generally doesn't attend these sorts of functions, but this one was a one-day affair in Elmdale, there and back without having to stay in a dusty motel (Patrick had hit David with the driest expression in his repertoire when David had expressed this point), and there was a workshop called "The Power of a Cohesive Aesthetic," so David had agreed with what he considers to have been a very modest level of bitching.

The radio is on low and Patrick is relaxed, one hand on the bottom of the wheel and the other on David's thigh, chattering about the Greater Elms Business Association panel he attended, and David can't really be blamed for letting his attention drift a bit; watching Patrick's face move through his excitement is simply much more fun than actually listening to what the CFO of Elm Glenn's premiere laundry facility had to say about bargain buying. They will _not_ be applying that to the Apothecary, thanks so much.

David lets his gaze drift down Patrick's profile — the slight curl of the hair at his neck that says he's overdue for a cut, the stiff collar of his teal shirt, the strain of the fabric where he's rolled his cuffs up, the long, transparent sticker that reads XL XL XL XL down his chest — 

_Wait a second._

"Um, Patrick, honey?" David says delicately, completely disrupting whatever Patrick was saying about cheaper office supplies — although, actually, if Patrick wants to cut costs, carbon paper and premium colored ink are surely the places to do it. "Is that a new shirt?"

"Yeah." Patrick glances at him for a second, one eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly. "You were with me when I bought this. Do you not like it?" He frowns.

David does remember — after being coerced into Kohls on the promise that he wouldn't have to try anything on himself, he'd actually quite enjoyed the little fashion show Patrick had given him, and it had gotten him into slim-fit jeans (he didn't buy them, but, baby steps). And he remembers thoroughly endorsing this color on Patrick — it brings out his natural coloring a bit, so that even under the harshest fluorescents he doesn't look cadaverous. That assessment is what probably led Patrick to wear it to a conference at a university, with its stupid economical lighting and paint jobs.

"I love the shirt," David says emphatically, because he doesn't want Patrick stuffing it in the back of his closet, never to be seen again. "Um, it's just. You've got a price tag..?" He reaches over and delicately plucks at a corner of it; it separates from Patrick's chest with a soft ripping sound. 

"Oh my God," Patrick says; his eyes are on the road, but his ears redden considerably. "Do you think that was there all day?"

"Um. I don't think it magically appeared there halfway through the day. So." David cringes, trying to be sympathetic but unable to imagine leaving the house without checking over his clothes first. 

Patrick's face only flames further. "I talked to so many people today! David, I had a whole conversation with the president of the Greater —"

"Greater Elms Business Association, I know," David says, pained that he's in love with a man who cares about the opinion of the Greater Elm's Business Association's president.

"They must have thought I was an idiot," Patrick says miserably, shaking his head at the road. "Damn it, and I really killed them with that joke about British accountants…"

David grits his teeth over that one. "I'm sure they didn't notice. I mean, I didn't notice, and I think I pay just a _little_ more attention to your clothes slash body than the average person?"

Patrick's mouth twists. "I guess that's true."

"Um, you _guess?"_ David paws at Patrick's shoulder playfully. "When we get home I'll get you out of this shirt and prove it to you." He tries for a sexy growl, knowing the effect will be more goofy (he's not really the growling type) and that it will make Patrick laugh.

He does laugh, just a little bit. "I know what you're doing, David," he says, smiling sideways at the freeway, "and if you try to distract me now I will send us straight into a guardrail."

David pulls back. "Wouldn't want that." But Patrick's blush is almost gone. "So…what else did you learn at your panel today?" He knows he'll regret asking, but as Patrick lights back up and launches into a detailed description of whatever it is (so he's already zoning out, can he be blamed?) he's glad that he did. He laces his fingers with Patrick's and watches his expressions shift and change, and humoring Patrick, pleasing him, lifting him back up is so easy and feels so good that David thinks he could do it for the rest of his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked this! Visit me on tumblr @loveburnsbrighter!


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